Palin has been governor for two years. Some might argue that in terms of experience she makes Obama look like Robert Byrd. In July, Palin told CNBC’s Larry Kudlow that “as for that VP talk all the time, I tell ya, I still can’t answer that question until, until somebody answers for me ‘What it is exactly that the vice president does every day?” LINK <http://blogs.abcnews.com/politicalpunch/2008/08/a-lighter-shade.html>
Sometimes, words fail. This is one of those times.
From the Anchorage Daily News:
“She’s not prepared to be governor. How can she be prepared to be vice president or president? said [State Senate President Lyda Green, a Republican from Palin's hometown of Wasilla]. “Look at what she’s done to this state. What would she do to the nation?”
From the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner:
“She has never publicly demonstrated the kind of interest, much less expertise, in federal issues and foreign affairs that should mark a candidate for the second-highest office in the land. Republicans rightfully have criticized the Democratic nominee, Sen. Barack Obama, for his lack of experience, but Palin is a neophyte in comparison; how will Republicans reconcile the criticism of Obama with the obligatory cheering for Palin?…Most people would acknowledge that, regardless of her charm and good intentions, Palin is not ready for the top job. McCain seems to have put his political interests ahead of the nation’s when he created the possibility that she might fill it. It’s clear that McCain picked Palin for reasons of image, not substance.
Palin’s image as a fresh reformer works on some level, for the moment. The governor, as she is quite able to do, delivered a good speech in a strong voice. The crowd cheered her enthusiastically, only occasionally fading into the “huh?” mode during the presentation. The televised punditry followed up with mostly positive comments, calling Palin’s selection a clever “chess move” by McCain.
The chess analogy offers some caution. Gov. Palin, while extending her amazing adventure in politics, must prove she is more than a pawn.”
So, yeah. Basically the same thing I said last night, only much more polished – and from those in the know.
Wish I could say I was scratching my head with many in America this morning and going, “Palin? Michael Palin? Why he’s British. . .he can’t be McCain’s vice presidential pick.” Fortunately or unfortunately, I had the dubious honor of being in the car, available to listen to Sarah Palin’s “aw shucks, I’m ready to shatter the glass ceiling” perky folksiness.
And seeing it for what it was. . .a buyout, with one huge price-tag attached.
Sarah Palin is as much a regular mom like I am Mary, Queen of Scots. She’s as Vice Presidential as me, too, with a mostly-useless journalism degree and a couple of small kids to raise. I wonder, though, how many Americans, stuck with little cash and shitloads of bills, will take the time to look beyond her pretty face and vivacious voice, her “Gidget goes to Washington” demeanor and really see what she is:
The fundamentalist Trojan Horse, seeing her chance to hop onto the highway to power based solely on gender, good looks and a folksy attitude — and grasping it with both hands.
She is a member of a church whose ideology would rightfully scare the crap out of the Average American. She is a true believer in The Rapture and theocratic rule, and her church is known for this.
She does not believe in global warming, though being that close to the arctic ice caps meltdown means she probably has to literally close her eyes to avoid seeing reality.
In the Governor’s office less than two years, she’s already being investigated for abuse of powers: allegedly aiding in the firing of her former brother-in-law from the Troopers. She’s said to have made close to 50 phone calls to his higher-ups, in the process.
She claims family values and the values votes, but is leaving behind a four-month-old child with Down’s Syndrome in order to lay claim to the second highest office in America – a position for which she has absolutely no experience or preparation.
Sarah Palin opposes abortion, even under cases of rape and incest. Unless the life of a mother is threatened by carrying to term, that is.
But these are not the most appalling items in her resume, or lack thereof, to me. What shocks me to my core is the fact that she is willing to go along with a craven, calculated agenda that smacks of being nominated for simply having a vagina, when she knows she is not capable nor prepared outside of that one requirement.
Please don’t get me wrong: I want more than anything to see a woman in The Oval Office. But in order for it to really count, it has to be a woman who has earned that right. Hillary was that woman, but she had an abominably mishandled campaign, one designed to bring out the worst in her.
McCain’s choice was political theater, and bad Kabuki theater, at that. It was a thumb in the nose to every woman who has ever aspired to be more than a pretty face, more than a quota. Maybe I can expect that of the Republican party, in general. But I find it horrifying that the woman in question was willing to go along with it, just for the sake of political goals.
It’s one thing to know Sarah Palin is a fraud as a female candidate for Vice President. It’s another thing entirely to know that she knows it and accepts it, too. And underneath that cool exterior she has an agenda all her own – one that Americans remain unfamiliar with at their own peril – an agenda of typical theocratic, fundamentalist goals. Those goals are to be met at all costs. After this morning, the cost of self-respect is apparently negotiable, and easily surmounted.
Rather than making history, as she claimed this morning, Sarah Palin is setting all females back, going in based not on merit but merely on gender.
The question is: are average American voters going to dig deeper and learn who she is, rather than what she represents?
Amazing, breathtaking, sharp and direct. . .who knew John Kerry had it in him to give perhaps the best speech of the DNC, last night? Shame most networks did not carry the Kerry; it was just that good. Had he been that good four years ago, we might be facing a completely different America today, or one well on its way to righting the Bush wrongs.
Seems JK took his loss to heart and went through the same transformative phase that hits so many of us who face setbacks and failure. He’s all the better for it, too — hitting hard at McCain for eschewing the smear tactics used against him in the 2000 primary that he now embraces; decrying the politics of division and fear:
“This election is a chance for America to tell the merchants of fear and division: You don’t decide who love this country.
You don’t decide who is a patriot.
You don’t decide whose service counts and whose doesn’t.
Four years ago I said – and I say it again tonight – that flag doesn’t belong to any ideology. It doesn’t belong to any political party. It is an enduring symbol of our nation and it belongs to all the American people.
After all, patriotism is not love of power; or some cheap trick to win votes – patriotism is love of country.
Years ago when we protected a war, people would weigh in against us saying: “My country right or wrong.” Our answer?
Absolutely, my country right or wrong. When right, keep it right. When wrong, make it right.
Sometimes loving your country demands you must tell the truth to power. This is one of those times, and Barack Obama is telling those truths.
In closing, let me say, I will always remember how we stood together in 2004 – not just in a campaign, but for a cause.
Now again, we stand together in the ranks, ready to fight.
The choice is clear, our cause is just, and now is our time to make Barack Obama the next President of the United States of America.
Thank you.”
I was in awe of Senator Kerry last night and ever-so-proud to watch my party nominate the first African American presidential candidate on the eve of the anniversary of Martin Luther King’s speech. They did not do it because of race, or in spite of race, but with indifference to race: Barack Obama is simply the best candidate for the job of running our country and restoring its rightful vision in our very weary, brow-beaten hearts and minds. Above anyone else, he may be able to return America to the people to whom it belongs: Us. We the people.
By now, most people have likely heard about the alleged planned attempt on Obama’s life that was foiled by a routine traffic stop in Denver. If not, here’s the skinny. Last night, the mainstream media didn’t have word one on the story. Not sure if that’s changed, today.
You know, we don’t create the news, but this is very scary stuff. You consider that some lunatic (encouraged by Hannity, Limbaugh and Savage, no doubt) might try something insane like this story. But you always pray it’s just not true.
Unfortunately, these guys were busted for drugs in the same Denver hotel as the Kossacks who are part of The Big Tent this year. So, yeah. True. Scary, but true.
I’m not cut out to be an office drone; just no two ways around it. Every few years I attempt it again, with disasterous results. For one thing, it’s tedious. No matter how you try to gussy-up a cubicle, it’s still an ugly, gray, depressing little box designed to keep you inside and all creativity, out.
Then there’s the matter of staying put for, oh, eight hours a day. As if. I’ve got ADHD – bouncing off walls is my normal mode of behavior. So is sociability. Neither of these things happen in an office job that takes place when most people are at home watching the tube.
I miss my social life!! I miss human interaction! I despise repetition, thinking inside the box, being a drone. It’s funny, but some people love to work in an office environment. They thrive on doing the same thing day after day, just waiting until they can collect a pension or die. Some people actually believe their tedious, meaningless, pencil-pushing job matters in the big scheme of things, and their “position” at the company is a part of who they are.
To me, there is life and then there is work. And you should never confuse the two. Work, good work, is designed to make Life possible. It’s when your work starts making your Life miserable that you realize things have gone too far – or that you’re just not an office person.
So, that’s where I’m at today. Back at work, due to circumstance beyond my control, my job has become mind-numbingly tedious of late. As in, “Is Molly Maid hiring?” levels of utter disdain. Or, “It’s been awhile, but I used to be a good waitress,” waves of thought. Anything to escape sitting still for hour after hour.
I know life is short, but office jobs only make it seem interminably long. There has to be a better way, even here in Cleveland where jobs are about as scarce as Elvis sightings these days.
Today, my father’s 87th birthday, he chastised my daughter for being mean to me. “Don’t be that way with your mother. She’s such a sweetheart. We had some good times together when she was a little girl. Do you remember?” he asked me, and with a big smile, he said immediately, “Because I remember. I do. Always a sweetheart.”
I do remember.
Fairly objectively speaking, I was a sweetheart. Still am.
Maybe that’s the problem, or a fair portion of how my problems began. In the big bowling league of life, a person can either be a ball, or a pin. And I — the sweetheart — have always been a pin. Waited to get knocked down, because that is what pins do. Prided myself on getting right back up when knocked down. Because that is also what pins do. And I waited, and still wait, to be knocked down again. Because that is what pins do and such is their lot in life.
But sometimes we forget, we pins and balls, that pins only get back up again because some machine lifts them. It’s not even a choice. Pins and sweethearts have to rely on the whims of balls and machinery outside themselves to see where they’ll land, or assure they take their rightful, standing place.
Nothing to be proud of, really. And getting knocked down isn’t fun. Sometimes it is all you have, to get up again, and sometimes it takes every bit of determination you’ve got. So why continue to just stand there, forever awaiting the next ball?
Most of the time, I got back up pretty easily. The machine was always in place, and I was always just a little dusty, but still the same old reliable little bottleneck sweetheart of a pin. And then this last time kind of knocked the wind right out of me. Still, I got back up – maybe a little wobbly, but headed right back for upright position.
And now my work. . .well, they’re not sure anymore if I’m still a solid pin. Suddenly, and quite frequently of late, they’re lobbing a whole lot of good, hard strike balls at me. Right down the center of the lane, gunning to knock me over, placing bets on whether the mechanism will lift back up, as it always has.
It likely will. Always has. Always a sweetheart, right? You can’t change your core structure – a ball is always a ball, and a pin just stands in the way of a perfect score.
Or does it?
Because recently, the machinery failed. Problem with the lift mechanism; couldn’t be helped. Made being a standing pin a highly iffy proposition. Once lifted back into position, finally, I looked around and thought. . .maybe I’m not meant to spend the rest of my life as a pin. Maybe 40 years was enough.
I wonder what it’s like to be the ball?
Sometimes, when you have nowhere to go but up, you can finally afford to consider other alternatives, to question just how far you’ve gotten, standing in line only to be knocked down time and time again. To ponder the benefit of always being a sweetheart, and just how much that title can cost. Once you’ve finally faced being down for the count, the view is a whole lot different. And maybe you recognize that you are just as smart, just as capable – if not more – than all the balls that you’ve always let come flying down to hit you.
I want to be the ball.
Not settling for being a pin, or a sweetheart, anymore. It’s time to roll down from such lofty titles that have gotten me nowhere. Sooner or later, I have to become the ball, no matter how scary it might feel.
And – sorry, Dad – but heaven help the pins.
Today on “Science Friday,” NPR ran an interview with scientist Paul Ehrlich who studies animal species extinction and has recently published “The Dominant Animal.” Basically, he said he is pessimistic when it comes to what he’s seeing die off in our ecosystem and what it bodes for our children and grandchildren. Yet, he says he is hopeful over what we can do as a populace, together, to turn this all around.
He pointed out the historical rapid changes we made in World War II, going from an economy producing predominantly automobiles to one creating munitions, tanks and artillery in the space of one year. His belief is that we can adapt, rapidly, but it requires a healthy dose of fear — the very fear this current administration would like to ignore and preach away. Yes, preach, because they cloak their pooh-poohing of science in the garb of religion, gussying it up for the masses. But it’s not religion that drives them. It’s oil. Big oil is willing to do anything to keep us all at the pump and keep themselves the only game in town, and this administration is willing to do anything to help them. Them, and every other big business in America.
I found myself far less hopeful than Ehrlich, listening to him. We can, I believe, turn things around. . .but we must not only be afraid. We must be willing and we must listen to those who issue dire warnings, not dismiss them as naysayers and dramaseekers.
The scientists who bonded together to protest Bush’s environmental policies – many of them Nobel Laureates, did so not to draw attention to themselves, but to bring to our attention what havoc we’re causing in the large scheme of things. Within five years we will have no ice left in the Artic. That’s a fact the administration can’t find any way to dress up all nice and pretty.
Even chili peppers learn to adapt. They add more capsaicin to ward off damaging fungi and discourage insects from eating their fruit. Surely we humans, when faced with the destruction of our own and other species, are as intelligent as chili peppers. Well, I hope, anyway.
Season Two of Mad Men began with uncharacteristic whimper, less bang for your advertising buck brought to you by the ad men on Madison Avenue, circa 1962, than the Sterling Cooper Agency would approve. Eighteen months had passed, so pivotal plot lines from the first season were all but dusted under the rug: did Don return home, chastised by Rachel to become the family man and husband he should be? Did Betty have a breakdown? And what of Peggy’s problem?
So it left me slightly underwhelmed, but made up for all of that in tonight’s equally brooding and dark second episode of the season.
With the deep, sometimes seemingly opaque dialogue and reactions from characters that both surprise and reinforce viewers’ sense of having a handle on the men and woman at Sterling-Coop, tonight brought some aha moments and the first twist of the screws on Don Draper, our antihero, courtesy of the man who wants to be him (Peter) and the man who wants to usurp him (Duck).
But it was this, the voice-over narration of Frank O’Hara’s Mayakovsky from the book Meditations in an Emergency, that stuck with me through both episodes:
Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.
The country is grey and
brown and white in trees,
snows and skies of laughter
always diminishing, less funny
not just darker, not just grey.
It may be the coldest day of
the year, what does he think of
that? I mean, what do I? And if I do,
perhaps I am myself again.
For reasons both personal and plot-driven, I get this poem on a molecular level. Every cell resonated as the words were spoken, reaching out in sympathy to Don Draper, who is seeing himself become somewhat superfluous and so very yesterday when painted against new, younger talent – and reaching inward to understand things in my own life recently in a different context. Great poetry has a way of doing that, and when placed in the middle of a show driven as much by an undercurrent of the unspoken as it is by great dialogue, it’s a divine coupling.
Others must think so, too, as the google search for Meditations in an Emergency spiked immediately after the season opener. I confess, I really want the whole book, now. So do many other people: Meditations jumped from 15,565 to 161 on Amazon’s sales ranking list after Mad Men aired last Sunday night.
You don’t know what you’re missing if you’ve not been watching Mad Men. It’s really that good.
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